


The Mirror Has Two Faces

by echoes_of_another_life



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:18:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_another_life/pseuds/echoes_of_another_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Vampires deserve flowers on Valentines Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mirror Has Two Faces

The Mirror Has Two Faces

Wesley cleared his throat, his voice quiet and matter of fact, “When are you expecting him back?”

“He didn’t say.” Harmony shrugged her shoulders and flicked through the pages of her magazine.

“I can’t imagine he did,” Wesley said, dryly. “Well as soon as he returns could you have him contact me? It is rather important.”

Harmony looked at Wesley with complete lack of interest and Wesley raked his hands through his hair in frustration, leaned down and braced the palms of his hands on the desk. “Harmony …”

The sound of the elevator doors opening drew Wesley’s attention and a surprised smile appeared on Harmony’s face as Angel stepped out into the lobby.

“Oh, hi boss, you’re back,” Harmony smiled and turned to Wesley. “Do you want me to tell him now?” 

“No, Harmony it’s fine, I can take it from here.” Wesley sighed, turned away from the desk and followed Angel to his office.

Angel reached for the handle and hesitated, “Wesley, can this wait? Whatever it is …”

“I’m afraid not Angel.” Wesley handed Angel the morning paper he’d had tucked away in his inside pocket. “It seems the two assailants from last night weren’t in fact vampires as we’d originally thought. The police found their charred remains this morning.” 

Angel reached for the door handle again and stretched out his neck muscles, took the paper Wesley held at arms length, walked into his office and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

“Relax Wes, the police assumed they were drunk and drove their car into a dumpster, they’re not looking for any suspicious circumstances.” 

Angel shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare off the window facing him, took his jacket off and tossed onto the chair after the paper. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to walking into his office and seeing this, the way the red haze gave way to a golden white sheen as the day advanced, the colour so bright and impenetrable it turned its earlier orange into an afterglow. 

“Still, a person, if indeed it was a person that can masquerade as a vampire, Angel we need to investigate this, it could be important, I mean … flowers …”

“Flowers?” Angel frowned, turned from the window already missing the view and looked across at Wesley.

“Yes, on your desk, flowers, a whole bunch of them.” Wesley frowned.

Angel stirred slightly and Wesley thought he looked tired. His face revealed none of his emotions as he reached out and fingered a single stem but Wesley took in the blank expression and the shadows in his eyes.

“Quite a mixture, wouldn’t you say?” Wesley watched the way Angel fingered the stem with indefinable delicacy.

“Quite,” Angel mused. His finger tightened around the stem of the flower and he jerked his hand away as a small pinprick of blood welled on his fingertip.

“Harmony?” Angel lifted his hand to his mouth.

“Here, let me,” Wesley handed him a handkerchief and watched as the blood seeped through to stain the clean white material.

“Yes, boss.” 

“Harmony, who sent the flowers? Did you see the courier because there doesn’t seem to be a card?” 

“Flowers?” Harmony stepped away from the door and her face lit up as Angel moved away from the desk to reveal the flowers.

“Someone sent you flowers? How romantic.” Harmony smiled at Angel as he settled on the couch, she walked over to the desk and reached to lift the flowers and smell them.

“Careful, they still have the thorns attached.” Angel pulled the handkerchief away from his finger, put it in his mouth and sucked on it gently.

“Are we to presume from this feminine display of surprise that you didn’t take delivery of them?” Wesley asked. His frown deepened and he looked over at Angel, saw his tongue circle his finger briefly before his lips closed over it and hastily turned his attention back to Harmony.

Harmony shook her head and looked at Wesley. “Sorry.”

“Most intriguing, it could be a message of some sort, I suppose, but then people wishing to leave a message generally leave a card.” Wesley moved the stem Angel had been holding and saw the droplets of blood on the paperwork beneath. “Then it’s highly possible that someone in the building left them here, Harmony are you sure you didn’t see anyone?” Wesley asked.

“No and I’ve been at my desk all morning and I’m sure today of all days I would have noticed someone delivering flowers, besides you’re not supposed to guess who sent them, you’re supposed to just boast about receiving them.”

Harmony shook her head and sent Wesley a long-suffering look before turning her attention to Angel. “So, you have a secret admirer, any ideas who it might be?”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to stand here second guessing who sent them?” Wesley said irritably. He bent and lifted a single stemmed flower and raised it to his nose to inhale the scent.

“Well not like it’s some sort of covert mission you’re not.” Harmony turned her back on Wesley and looked at Angel enquiringly.

“What? They’re flowers; I’m sure there’s been some mistake and that they should have been delivered to the typing pool or something.” Angel watched Wesley pluck a single petal from the flower; he held it and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger and Angel wondered why the thought of seeing him snap the petals off should irritate him.

Harmony laughed at the way Angel avoided her gaze, the sheepish look to his features that she didn’t think she’d seen before or would be ever likely to see again. “Sure boss, whatever you say, I could take them down there for you, ask around see if anyone’s expecting a florist delivery but I expect there’s gonna be a huge show of hands on a day like today.” She smiled.

“Would you kindly take this seriously?” Wesley bristled, “This could be a warning of some sort, someone could be using these flowers as a way of sending Angel a message.” 

Harmony’s smile widened. “Well, duh, how else are they gonna tell him they think he’s hottie, send a demonogram? On second thought don’t answer that.” She walked over to the door, shook her head once more and grinned. “Has either of you even bothered to check today’s date?” 

Wesley’s brows drew together as the realisation struck and he smiled, “Of course, it’s the fourteenth …”

“Of February, “Angel interrupted. “Valentine’s Day, not something I care to think about if you don’t mind, Wesley.

“But aren’t you even a touch curious as to who sent them?” Wesley asked. After all flowers were assigned meaning in ancient times and often used in affairs of the heart.” 

Angel moved from the sofa, walked over to the desk and fingered the rich olive green bells tucked away amongst the other flowers, felt their softness between his fingertips and smiled to himself. “Wesley, I’m more concerned right now just how long it’s going to take Harmony to let everyone in the building know.”

“I heard a certain someone got flowers today.” Fred smiled as she walked into the office.

An odd muffled sound escaped Wesley but he kept his face straight. “So it would seem.”

“Was there a card? Generally people sending flowers leave a card, unless they don’t, leave a card that is, maybe they wanted to add a little mystery in which case they wouldn’t. So did they leave a card?” Fred pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and bent down to inspect the flowers on Angel’s desk.

Angel sighed and watched Fred and Wesley as they inspected the surprise delivery as if it was some sort of lab specimen. “There’s no card, Fred.”

“No, apparently not,” Wesley agreed. “We were just discussing before you came in the fact that flowers were assigned meaning in ancient times, the flowers could be a message themselves, wouldn’t you say?” 

Fred leaned close, ran her fingers tentatively over the flowers and swept a hand through the tendrils of hair that tumbled across her forehead as she thought about it. “I suppose but yellow Chrysanthemum, aren’t they supposed to signify slighted love? I mean if someone wanted to express slighted love would they do it with flowers?”

“Yes, most intriguing.” Wesley frowned. “But the Gardenia, speaks of a secret love, perhaps the sender hasn’t made their feelings known for fear of being slighted or perhaps they feel their feelings are being dismissed or possibly slighted to keep some secret.”

Angel released his breath in a long sigh and looked at them both as if they were mad. “Wesley, they’re flowers, not some form of ancient text.”

Fred made a face at Angel, “Angel stop being so stuffy, this is fun, it’s not everyday someone sends you flowers. I think it’s sweet.”

“Sweet?” Angel bristled.

“Yes sweet, stop being such an idiot.” Fred smiled innocently.

Angel folded his arm at looked at Fred. “Idiot? Fred I’ve been called many things in my time but never an idiot …”

“Well that’s because no one would dare call you it before and stop acting like one of those guys who stomped about in armour and demanded retribution at the mere hint of having their masculinity questioned.” Fred’s smile widened and she turned back to Wesley who cleared his throat and continued inspecting the flowers.

Angel smiled at her teasing; he enjoyed seeing this side of Fred, seeing her confidence restored, almost. She’d come a long way from the shy frightened mouse they’d brought back with them from Pylea but Angel didn’t kid himself, he knew she still had a long way to go but she was getting there and he felt privileged to be around to see how far she’d come.

“Actually Fred, retribution doesn’t sound so archaic now that you mention it.” Angel looked over at Fred and Wesley, saw the way they stood together, the smile on Fred’s face and the way Wesley tried and failed to hide his amusement.

“What would you suggest Angel? Pistols at dawn?”

Fred bit back her laugh, shook her head fondly at Wesley and looked at Angel, saw his folded arms and the determined set of his jaw and grinned. “You’d burst into flames before I even had time to draw my weapon, idiot.” She laughed.

“Wesley, have you noticed the decided lack of respect around here lately?” Angel asked, his arms still folded but there was amusement in voice despite the way he scowled at Fred.

“Lavender,” Fred interrupted.

“That’s supposed to represent solitude.” Wesley looked at Angel, “It would seem the sender knows you quite well, Angel.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Angel watched Fred stroke the small delicate flowers almost hidden by the larger blooms. She fingered the olive green bell and frowned.

“What are these, they’re beautiful.” She sighed softly.

“I’m not sure,” Wesley replied. “Angel?”

Angel looked uncomfortable, he moved closer to the table but didn’t look at either of them, he looked at the flowers, the green ball shaped calyx that formed on their stems and smiled fondly for a second before he noticed both Fred and Wesley watching him and cleared his throat. “Green Bells of Ireland,” Angel mumbled. “They used to be quite popular back in the day.”

“Really?” Wesley looked back at the flowers, “I don’t think I’m familiar with them …” Wesley trailed off as he looked back to Angel enquiringly.

“They’re used to add a little calm in a riot of colour … to inject a touch of whimsy.” Angel shrugged.

“Oh, I know this one,” Fred said excitedly. “It’s Swe …”

“Dianthus,” Angel interrupted and turned away before either of them could see the look in his eyes. “Look they’re just flowers, I think we’ve wasted enough time establishing whether or not they’re a threat to world peace. Maybe we should actually think about getting some work done. Wesley, maybe you should investigate the deaths of the two bodies found this morning, you’re right it could be important.”

Wesley frowned at the sudden change in Angel’s mood, the look on Fred’s face, the faint blush to her cheeks and the way she smiled shyly at Angel.

“So, word is the big guy got flowers this morning, huh?” Gunn stood in the doorway and grinned.

“That’s it!” Angel said. “Out, all of you and take your over active imaginations with you.” Angel showed Wesley and Fred the door and glowered at Gunn’s smug grin, exercising remarkable restraint not to throw them out bodily. He slammed the door behind them, turned back to look briefly when he heard laughter then cursed as the phone rang.

“What?” Angel grunted.

“Erm, boss, will you be needing a vase sent up for the flowers?” 

~*~

Angel replaced the receiver without answering, sat down in his chair and wondered whether he’d ever be able to show his face outside the office again. He touched the English garden flowers Fred had been looking at gingerly and marvelled at the deep shade of crimson and the soft velvet feel of the double-headed flower. He closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair and the sigh half formed on his lips turned to a curse when the phone interrupted his thoughts.

“Harmony, not now …” Angel began. 

“Car harem, ten minutes.” 

Angel heard the confident voice on the other end of the phone and a slow masculine smile of amusement softened his mouth. “You’re going to pay for this …”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” 

The words whispered down the phone, moved through his mind and wrapped him in heat that spread through his body, settled in the pit of his stomach, and made his skin fiery hot. His cock twitched painfully against the fabric of his trousers, tormented him with the promise of release and he stifled a groan.

“Hey, are you starting without me because two can play at that game, mate.”

Angel heard the sound of a zipper followed by the rustle of material, “Spike, hold that thought.”

Angel rose from his chair and groaned as his muscles contracted against the constriction of his trousers, he shifted his weight in an attempt to ease the tightness of the material, paused for a second and held on to the corner of his desk until the trembling in his legs subsided. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes against the demands of his body and counted the seconds until he could make a move towards the door.

Angel strode out of his office and headed straight for the elevator, avoided the way Harmony tried to get his attention and focused on the small button on the wall, three more steps and he’d be there. “Just keep walking,” he muttered to himself.

"Boss?" Harmony waved the phone receiver in the air frantically, “There’s a call for you.”

“Take a message,” Angel grunted not breaking his stride.

“But boss …”

“Not now Harmony.” He stabbed at the button beside the elevator door and tapped his foot impatiently.

“Shall I get them to call your cell?” Harmony put the phone to her ear and mumbled something down the mouthpiece.

Angel felt around in his pockets and cursed when he realised he didn’t have it with him, thought about the last time he’d used it in his office earlier when Spike … 

Angel felt the ache in his groin grow more merciless and thought how he was going to enjoy making him pay for this.

~*~

Spike leaned against the Viper and watched Angel move slowly out of the shadows, saw the way his muscles rippled beneath his shirt as he turned and locked eyes with Spike. He swallowed; his body trembled in anticipation as Angel walked slowly towards him, tall, dark and with a menacing look on his face and to Spike he was without equal.

Angel’s hand slid over his own chest, stroked his flat belly until his fingertips brushed against the waistband of his trousers, he reached for the button and saw Spike’s eyes darken. He freed himself from the confines of the tight cloth and shuddered as he closed his hand around his length, stroked and caressed the thick shaft. He lowered his gaze, saw the muscles in Spike’s jaw clench and watched his tongue snake out to moisten his lower lip.

Angel groaned thickly, lowered his head and caught Spike’s lower lip between his teeth, he slid his tongue along Spike’s upper lip before delving inside, his mouth moved over Spike’s, hot, hungry and demanding as his tongue explored every inch of his mouth. Angel heard himself moan as Spike shifted closer, tangled his fingers in Angel’s hair and pulled him down. 

Spike could feel Angel, thick and hard as he began to move against him, he stepped into him, brought one leg between Angel’s making a space for himself. Angel groaned and bit down hard on Spike’s lip and anchored his leg with his own, the action only bringing them in to closer contact as Spike felt Angel ease his hand between them and push past the opening in his jeans and reach for his throbbing erection.

“I thought I told you to hold that thought Spike.” Angel breathed against Spike’s mouth as he closed his hand around his cock and fisted it slowly.

“Oh, I held it alright.” Spike groaned, “All the time I was thinking about how you were gonna make me pay.” He moved his hips forward mimicking the rhythm of Angel’s hand, felt the precum that coated Angel’s fingers and pushed into the slick heat as Angel’s teeth scraped across his jaw, down his neck to nibble on his sensitive collarbone. 

Angel’s hand caught Spike’s waist roughly, tugged at his open jeans, pushed them down and traced the contours of his lean hips with his fingers, stroked his bare ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh for an instant before he cradled Spike’s hips in his large hands and looked down at him.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay, Spike, starting now.” Angel growled.

Angel gripped Spike’s hips tightly and spun him around until he was face down across the Viper’s hood, his arms spread out, palms facing downward his cheek pressed into the metal, and he used the toe of his shoe to nudge Spike’s feet wider apart. One strong hand pinned Spike in place, one knee wedged firmly between Spike’s thighs as he fisted his weeping cock and watched the precum drip on Spike’s naked ass and run between his cheeks.

“Trust me, you’re gonna pay …”

Angel surged forward burying himself deeply within Spike and began to move with deep strong strokes, one hand snaked around his waist to pull him up against him. He bent one knee, shifted forward and braced the other against the cold metal of the car to support his weight.

“This is what you get for making me a laughing stock of the entire office.” Angel’s teeth closed over Spike’s shoulder, his breath hot on his back. Spike pushed back against him, consenting and laughed throatily, he clenched his muscles and his body tightened around Angel’s cock, moved with him enflaming him further.

Angel pulled back, straightened slightly and used his free hand to pull the shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly to the floor. He kicked it with his feet as he tugged at Spike’s T-shirt, tearing it free in his need to feel flesh on flesh, his gaze running over the bare skin of his back. His fingers massaged Spike’s shoulder, pressed hard into the heavy muscle and his skin felt warm and slick with sweat. Angel’s hand tightened around Spike’s waist, lifted him as he surged forward in one long stroke. He slid his other hand along Spike’s bare arm as he loomed over him, shuddered as his fingers brushed along the soft hair of his lower arm until his hand rested over Spike’s smaller one. He laced his fingers through Spike’s and gripped them tightly as he increased the rhythm of his thrusts.

Spike groaned and pushed back against Angel, tried to lift his head but the weight against his shoulder kept him pinned against the metal hood of the car, the hunger to touch gnawed at him until he was almost consumed with it. He gripped tighter to the fingers curled around his own and bit down on his lip until he tasted the spice of his own blood on his tongue; his body ached and burned with the need for release, his body clenched and throbbed. Liquid heat surged through him, urgent, demanding.

Angel eased his hand out from beneath Spike’s waist, slid up his spine and he curled his fingers possessively over Spike’s shoulder as he increased the rhythm. His hips thrust forward aggressively and his teeth nipped at his neck as he whispered something inarticulate. His tongue teased over Spike’s skin tasting salt as the tightening in his groin became almost unbearable and he slammed into him and heard the metal give beneath the onslaught.

Spike felt the fiery warmth of release spread through him as Angel buried himself deeper and thrust harder. He heard Angel groan against his ear and felt the weight of his thighs as he pressed against him roughly, saw the muscles in his arm become taut before he lost the ability to think, gave in to the feeling, and ground his hips into Angel as Angel bucked against him and cried out.

Angel lifted his weight slightly but didn’t move away, he bent his head, rested it against Spike’s, brushed his cheek against his hair and rubbed his thumb along the fingers that tightened around his own.

~*~

Fred walked into Angel’s office and smiled when she saw it empty. She walked across to Angel’s desk and fingered the dark crimson flower, opened the book she had tucked under her arm and flicked through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

She picked up one stem carefully and compared it to the picture in the book. “Botanical name, Dianthus Barbatus,” she read aloud to herself. “A popular English garden flower. The flower heads consist of densely packed double flowers in shades of crimson, scarlet, pink, and salmon and are borne on upright stems.”

She ran her finger along the page, dismissing all the information on climate and growth until she reached the information she was looking for, pushed her glasses more snugly onto the bridge of her nose and smiled to herself. She placed the flower carefully back amongst the others and closed the book smugly. “Common name, Sweet William.”

She closed Angel’s office door quietly and smiled at Harmony as she passed her desk. “Harmony can you please see to it that the flowers in Angel’s office are placed in a vase of water?” she said, as she walked away swinging the book at her side.


End file.
